


Playing for the Same Team

by cadwgan



Series: Freshman Wolves [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-24
Updated: 2014-08-24
Packaged: 2018-02-14 11:58:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2190951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadwgan/pseuds/cadwgan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Brett shows up at the bonfire looking for Liam, and Mason gets suspicious of just how friendly their relationship is.</p><p>An extension of events from 4x09 "Perishable"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Playing for the Same Team

Liam wanted nothing more than to get so beyond smashed that when he woke up tomorrow, the only reason he would know he was alive was the blinding headache he would surely have. Really, it was incredibly convenient that the lacrosse team bonfire happened to be that night because the alcohol would be free and flowing. He was a high school freshman; he should be getting drunk to forget about friend drama and failed tests, not freak assassins and supernatural dead-pools. But tonight, he didn’t really mind as long as he was getting drunk. 

Mason sat beside him in critical silence. He had been candid about his frustration with Liam, and Liam didn’t blame the guy. He had practically completely cut him out of his life since he was turned, but what could he do? He couldn’t tell him, and he couldn’t put him in danger. Everyone around him was in jeopardy now. He could barely control himself. Liam had never felt that the diagnosis of IED was more apt than at that moment. He was a total ticking time bomb about to explode and wipe out everyone in the blast radius.

As bad as he felt for lying to Mason, he felt even worse for himself, and that could only be temporarily cured by lots and lots of liquor. Considering the looks Mason kept shooting him, he really didn’t approve, even though he’d never say so out loud. It was too much, and he was hardly feeling the flask of whiskey he’d already drained. He tossed the empty canister to the grass and pushed himself up off of the bench in search of more alcohol. He wasn’t sure where to find it, but he figured if he followed the smell, he’d get to it eventually. Unfortunately his heightened sense of smell was still new to him and most everything seemed to smell like alcohol here anyways. 

Somehow he found himself in the midst of the writhing, sweaty (and severely under clothed) bodies surrounding the fire. With everyone moving around him, it wasn’t long before he unintentionally joined in the rhythm. It worked in his favour after all, because before he knew it, people around him began passing him bottles of whatever they could get their hands on. He had probably chugged a whole bottle of vodka when he caught a familiar scent advancing on him. Clearly this alcohol wasn’t doing its job if he could still smell Brett coming through the crowd.

He was one of the things Liam was trying to forget. Not him per se, but whatever the hell it was they were doing. As soon as he thought that, though, he regretted it. He was just so confused about what they were, and what he was. Brett was great, but all his life he had thought he was one way and then he realised that wasn’t true. Maybe he was just Brett-sexual. That sounded all right to him. Especially when Brett was weaving his way towards him, eyes hooded, clearly intoxicated, and sinfully swinging his hips ever so slightly. All he wanted was for Brett to pull him in against his chest, but they’d agreed to be discreet about things. Well, more like, in a moment of hair-pulling panic and frenzy, Liam had pleaded that they keep things private until he could figure out, well, anything about his life. And Brett, as he tended to do with Liam now, had let him dictate things without question. That behaviour pattern had been one of the biggest shocks of getting close with Brett again, but he couldn’t say that he minded.

“Liiiiiam,” Brett sung when he was finally in ear-shot. “That’s never going to do anything for you,” he dismissed the tequila in Liam’s hand. “Try this.”

Liam accepted the flask Brett was pushing into his hands, and immediately downed the whole thing. It burned running down his throat, tingling almost, but nothing like the rest of the drinks he had had that night. He sputtered as he withdrew the flask from his lips. “What the hell is that?” he questioned, swiping a hand across his mouth to wipe away the liquid dribbling down his chin.

“Just some Captain Morgan, spiked with a little wolfsbane.”

“Wolfsbane?!??” Liam exclaimed. He may not know much about being a werewolf yet, but he’d been warned profusely about the danger of wolfsbane by Scott and had heard many a horror story about the pack’s experiences with it. All in all, it didn’t sound like something he would want to ingest willingly.

“Don’t worry, man. Just a little is just enough to get you feeling buzzed,” Brett reassured him, producing another flask from inside the waistband of his jeans (which were unjustly form-fitting, Liam noted). He took a long swig for himself, before bringing it to Liam’s lips. They took turns like that, until it, too, was emptied. At this point, they were close enough that Liam could feel the heat radiating off of Brett’s body, and considering how intensely and seductively Brett was staring at him, he was pretty sure he was also warm to the touch.

Brett leaned in, and for whatever reason, maybe it was the alcohol, maybe he was just didn’t care enough to hide anymore, he didn’t back away; however, Brett wasn’t going for his mouth. Instead, he brushed his lips against the shell of Liam’s ear and whispered, “Your friend is staring at us.”

Liam whipped around and could just catch a glimpse of Mason gawking, mouth open, in his direction. He shook his head in disbelief. But, why? They hadn’t even done anything? Oh right. Everyone was still under the impression that they hated each other’s guts. Just speaking to each other was a red flag. Mason continued to give him an incredulous, perhaps judgmental look, and Liam couldn’t prevent the flush that decorated his face. Whatever. He could pass it off later as inebriation, he reasoned franticly in his mind, slinking backwards away from Mason’s stare. Unfortunately, that only led to him pressing back into Brett’s solid chest, and he was greeted by quite the surprise pressing against his backside in return. He was tempted to pull away, but his head was hazy and right now all he wanted was to lie down, or against someone, if that was the best option. He didn’t even protest when Brett pulled them deeper into the throng of party-goers and let his hands slide around Liam’s waist and come to a rest cradling his hips. Liam closed his eyes and let the music and alcohol take control, grinding his ass backwards and smirking at the low, soft moan that came from Brett. When Brett turned his attention to his throat, biting with blunt teeth, worrying bruises into the skin stretched over the hollow at the base of his neck, it was Liam’s turn to hum in approval, every so often letting out little breathy sighs that he knew tortured Brett, especially when they were somewhere too public to really get into things. Public. They were in public. Shit.

Liam’s eyelids flew open, or, at least, he thought they did. That’s what he told them to do. He whirled around to push Brett away and create some distance between them, but he only lost his footing and collapsed into Brett, who was becoming unsteady on his feet as well. 

“What’s happening?” Liam slurred, falling to his knees. He felt like he was paralysed.

“I don’t know. It shouldn’t be this effective.” Brett struggled to stay on his feet, leaning his hand on Liam’s shoulder in a fruitless attempt to stay upright.

Before he even knew what was happening, two men dressed as security came to drag them away from the crowd. He remembered nothing else before sinking into unconsciousness.  
________________________________________

(The Next Day)

 

Liam slumped his forehead against the cool metal of his locker in an attempt to calm the throbbing of his head. He cursed his werewolf powers for not preventing the pain, but in truth it was more mental than physical. 

“Rough night?” his friend teased, leaning on the locker next to him. Liam groaned in response. This was not what he wanted to talk about now. “Was it hard? Tiring? Unrelenting?” Against his better judgement, Liam turned to face Mason who was fixing him with a wide, toothy grin. Luckily he knew when to stop. “Look man, I’m just teasing you. You know I don’t give a shit about it. I’m just a little surprised, but I’m happy for you man. ” He clapped a hand on Liam’s back as a show of his support. A huge weight was lifted off of his shoulders. Truthfully, he hadn’t even realised how tense and worried he had been about the whole situation. He should have known Mason would never judge him. 

“Thanks, man. Really,” Liam returned earnestly.

“Is this why you’ve been stressing so much these past weeks?” Liam didn’t how to answer, but he found himself nodding affirmatively. Mason had been so worried about him. He had to take the chance to throw him off of the trail, more or less. “Dude, it’ll be fine. Plus I’m here for you.” Somehow he made the last pledge sound simultaneously sincere and light-hearted.

“Let’s get to class,” Liam said, unable to supress his smile. Mason pushed his back off the locker and fell in step with Liam as they headed off to English.

“You know,” Mason began, side-eyeing Liam walking next to him, “when I said that someone on your team, statistically, had to be on my team, too, I definitely did not expect it to be you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Heya! Hope you enjoyed this little piece of shit. Liam and Brett are the true baby wolves of Beacon Hills, and their love is alive and well in my mind, so I thought I'd write another installment. Let me know what you think!


End file.
